


Unforgivable

by Otaku_girl



Series: A Test of Time [2]
Category: TOLKIEN J. R. R. - Works, The Hobbit (2012), The Hobbit (2012) RPF, The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Angst, Epic, Forgiveness, Gen, I only write happy endings - of sorts :) Take that as you will, Inter-species, M/M, Multi, No-one died at the end of hobbit, Not at all a comedy, Other, Romance, Slash, Slow Build, Slow Burn, Thilbo, Threesome - M/M/M, VERY slow and angsty [super warnings given!], WIP, Work In Progress, bagginshield, m-preg, more to be added - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-02-15
Updated: 2014-12-24
Packaged: 2017-11-29 08:19:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 15
Words: 11,836
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/684820
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Otaku_girl/pseuds/Otaku_girl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Despite his banishment, Bilbo Baggins is convinced that Thorin will send for him.<br/>As the weeks turn in to months, with a little one on the way, Bilbo can't wait for true love forever...can he?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter One - There

Chapter One – There

‘Are you sure I can’t accompany you back, my friend?’  
A shock of sandy curls bounced against grubby, dirt and sweat streaked skin as he shook his head. Usually nimble fingers fumbled with his pack, deep blue eyes sweeping across its’ contents without taking it in.  
‘I mean no offense Gandalf, but I would prefer my own company to that of a Wizard more likely to get distracted half-way, only to wander off and leave me…’ Voice hitching, his fingers clenched around his pack.  
‘Oh Bilbo.’  
Bilbo took a deep, shuddering breath. Fighting back tears, he gave Gandalf a watery smile as the old wizard squeezed his shoulder.  
‘He will soon realize his mistake, my boy.’  
‘Don’t. Just…I know.’  
‘It doesn’t help, does it? I am truly sorry.’  
‘When…when you said I would be changed, if I returned to the Shire…’  
‘I never meant like this.’  
‘I know, old friend. I know.’


	2. Chapter Two – A Letter of Love

Chapter Two – A Letter of Love

My Beloved Thorin,  
I miss you dearly. The way your eyes glint like shards of onyx, the deep, rumbling laugh you show only me when we are alone together. The way your beard sticks up in funny little tufts after a night spent, just us two, sharing a bedroll whilst the others pretend not to hear those achingly sweet sounds you deny making.  
Oh, how I wish I was there, beside you. I would hit you so hard, Thorin Oakenshield, that none in the line of Durin would dare cross one from the Shire again.  
As the days crawl past, I cannot help but wonder if the sickness has left you yet. I mean not your wounds, for I saw Mister Oin scuttling amongst the tents before my fate had been decided. Is it worth it, my love? The price you have paid for your mountains of gold. Or was I but a trifling fancy, a fling to amuse you during the long, cold nights spent on the road?  
I will have you know that while us hobbits may not hold a candle to the stubbornness of dwarves, we can hold a grudge as well as any a dwarf. I shall not lie; I am beyond angry with you. Never before have I felt such…well, frankly, rage and utter injustice. That is not what fills my mind on these long, lonely days and nights. No. I am…disappointed. In you, Thorin. And in us. Perhaps, most of all, in myself.  
Oh, how I must have wronged you in some way to allow such doubts to grow and fester deep in your heart. If I could change what I have done…I would not. I will not lie now, Thorin.   
I would do it all again.  
Every word, every action. For, however small of a part I may have played, a part in the reclaiming of Erebor I did play. I once told you how often I thought of Bag End. I still miss my books, and my arm chair, and my garden. I am only days away from Hobbiton now, and I cannot find it in myself to feel joy. You see, that is no longer where I belong. Home isn’t a hole in the ground, with seven meals a day. I once said that I would stay, that I would help you take back the lonely mountain, as you did not have a home. You have your mountain back. Word must have reached your people. I wonder how many have begun their journey back to Erebor, back to meet their new King under the mountain.  
I wonder; is it home?  
When you are ready…when the madness has passed, and you have come to your senses – something I truly believe you shall do – I shall be waiting. In my little hobbit hole, waiting not for the King under the Mountain to call on me, but for the gruff, sweet-tongued dwarf who stole the heart of a thief when he was not looking.   
Nothing will stop me from loving you. No matter how idiotic you may be; I shall be angry, and utterly despairing of you at times.   
Never doubt my love for you.  
Yours always,  
Bilbo Baggins.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank-you so much to everyone who took the time to give chapter one kudos! This is my first attempt at Hobbit fanfiction [having only recently discovered the utter joy and appeal of Thilbo and anything involving Bofur], and my first real return to writing after writers block.   
> An extra-special thank-you to those who took the time to comment <3 I appreciate it so much.
> 
> A little note on the formatting of this fic. The first 1/3, alternate chapters will be in letter-format, being replaced by alternate PoV's after a certain point within the plot. Hopefully you will see why as the story progresses :)  
> The last of my short chapters, I promise :)


	3. Chapter Three - and Back Again

 

Rolling, green hills. Dark, luscious green trees, lining the side of winding, less-trodden paths. Rows upon rows of orchids, branches hanging low, heavy with fruit. Thick hedgerows, hiding acres of farmland, ready and waiting for harvest.  
 _There’s no place like home._  
Bilbo’s pace faltered, coming to a halt as he reached the top of the final hill. Dark brown eyes swept across the landscape, taking in each and every inch of the Shire.  
 _It hasn’t changed a bit._  
It had taken longer than he had thought. Despite the decrease in orcs and wargs, the lack of trolls and dragons, travelling by oneself had proved tricky. With no Fili and Kili to hunt, Bilbo had to rely heavily on the few supplies Gandalf had been able to supply before his abrupt departure, along with what little he had been able to forage safely. With no Bomber to cook warm, hearty meals, no Dori and Oin to collect firewood, keep it fed and roaring through the night, Bilbo had found himself reluctant to do more than force down a handful of the remaining lembas bread given to him during his brief passage through Rivendale, or berries he had foraged, before huddling miserably beneath his cloak.  
He missed Balin, Bifur and Dwalin keeping first watch, as they often had. It had taken some getting used to at first, but as the days had turned in to weeks, a sense of security, of calm and safe had settled over the hobbit when the company had bedded down for the night. Bilbo found it much harder to rest on the road by himself. With no-one to watch over him, his sleep was restless for the first two dozen nights. The closer he drew to familiar lands, the more lax he had become. Exhausted, he had begun to let his guard down.  
It was only gold.  
They had taken everything while he slept. Men, posing as Rangers; leaving him nothing but the clothes on his back, a small pack of food he had been using as a pillow, and sting by his side. They had even taken his mithril vest, the first, and last gift Thorin had bestowed upon him.  
If only Nori had been there. He would have had my gold back faster than Bomber could eat a wheel of cheese.  
With little food, barely any supplies, and none of his share of the reward left, the final weeks of the trip had seemed even longer, even more unbearable. Still no word came. No raven with a letter, saying all was forgiven. No guards sent after him with word from their king. None of the company, loyal to a fault, seeking to return him back to their side, to where he belonged. Each gallop of a horses hooves, every heavy footfall signaling man or ranger brought a lump to his throat, fear pooling sick and heavy in his stomach. He would hide, eyes wide, hands trembling at the mere sight of a man now.  
Bilbo began missing the long hours spent listening to Gloin’s rambling stories of Gimli, as he trudged through mud and rain. He told himself the sinking feeling at the pit of his stomach was merely from missing his cousins and cozy little hobbit hole. It had nothing to do with two certain dwarves he had come to see as his own kin, with another that had grown closer to him even than the old Gaffer had in the long, lonely years since his mother’s passing, nor with the one who he had thought he would spend eternity with.  
As Bilbo passed The Prancing Pony, unable to afford a single night, he couldn’t help but think of Bofur. He missed his first dwaven friend most of all. He had been the one to keep his spirits up, to listen wish a sympathetic ear as he complained about the hardness of the ground, the cold of the morning dew, the lack of second breakfast and elevenses and the dozen other little niggles that made themselves all that much clearer now that he was alone. And now? Now all he had to remember of the smiling toymaker was the ripped corner of his shirt, the scent of ponies and sweat clinging to the dirty fabric, to use as a handkerchief.  
 _He will call for me._  
Bilbo repeated his mantra each night he crawled alone into his cold bedroll.  
Holding his head high, he ran a grubby hand through tangled, sweat and dirt encrusted curls.  
 _I am a Baggins, of Bag End._  
He could feel his back stiffening as he caught sight of his first fellow hobbit in well over a year. Young, wide blue eyes stared back at him, as the hobbitling pointed, whispering to his companions at the sight of the strange, thin dirty hobbit coming down the hill.  
 _And no amount of gossip can change that._


	4. Chapter four – Letter of Comradery

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gah! I fixed chapter 3 a little earlier tonight; I didn't realize the italics had dissapeard. Sorry about that!

Thorin, my love;  
Did your mother neglect in teaching you manners? Or are you merely too pig-headed of a dwarf to adhere to the most basic of niceties and customs?  
Two months, Master Oakenshield. Two months! And not a word from you. Now, I can understand that you may still be angry with me, that your gold – that rebuilding of Erebor to its’ former glory must be taking up a great deal of your time and energy. I know that my banishment still stands, but have you no heart?  
You must tell me who survived, Thorin. Did a single one of our company fall?  
Of course I know how Gandalf fared, and I saw Master Oin bustling through the tents to your side. But what of the others? Are they well? Are they healing? Are they eating right? Do they…  
Enough of that.  
As my mother used to say, there is no use in worrying over a dropped stitch. For that is all this is, isn’t it? Just a little gap in the blanket of our future. Oh my, listen to me! Positively cringe worthy, isn’t it? But I promised myself I wouldn’t start this letter over again. Half a dozen attempts is more than enough.  
I had a little mishap on the road. Nothing to worry about. I shall wait to tell you more, when I next see you.  
Autumn is in full swing here. The fields and full, ripe and ready for harvest. How fares Laketown? Is it still awfully cold there? I can’t imagine how chilly it must get during winter in that mountain of yours.  
Did I tell you in my last letter? My cousins, the Sackville-Bagginses tried selling Bag-End while I was away! I am still trying to track down what I can of my possessions. All of my Mother’s china is still unaccounted for, along with her best silver spoons. Only my books seem untouched.  
I suppose I should be thankful that Lobella was never one for reading, for more than half my collection is worth more than the entirety of Bag End. Not that she realized, of course. Too busy trying to get her grubby little hands on each and every family heirloom from both my Baggins and Took sides.  
I have a confession to make. This…Hobbiton, the Shire, Bag End…none of it feels like home. Nothing means a wit without you by my side.  
I miss you. I miss the company. I thought…perhaps, well, that I had become friends with a number of them. Can they…are they allowed to write to me? Or…is that a part of my banishment? Or do they simply wish to forget the stupid, bumbling little burglar that burdened them on their quest home? Oh, blast it all! I shall feel most terrible if any one of them has come to harm, Thorin Oakenshield! Speaking ill of the ill, let alone the dead…well, it just doesn’t bare thinking.  
Write me back, my heart. Please. Grant me this one kindness. Even if it is just to say ‘All is well. We all live. Bugger off.’  
My bed has never felt so empty. Please, say that I shall feel your embrace by winter?  
Forever, your Bilbo.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next chapter really is longer...though a few short-ones are coming up as well. Sorry about that :(  
> Thank-you so much to everyone who has left kudos! And a huuuuuge thank-you to those who took the time to comment <3


	5. Chapter Five – Suspicions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Finally moving towards the actual plot. A little past-angst.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *sighs* I just couldn't help myself. Here's that longer chapter I promised :)

‘Good morning, Mister Bilbo.’  
‘Good morning Hamfast. How many times must I say? Just call me Bilbo.’  
‘Lovely weather for so late in the season, wouldn’t you say?’ Brown eye smiled up at him warmly from the flowerbed, lips curling at the corners at their long-running argument. Despite having grown up together, Hamfast had never quite forgotten his father’s words on propriety and respecting ones betters. Bungo Baggins had always been a wealthy hobbit. Marrying Belladonna Took, although considered not the most respectable of matches, what with her families’ love of adventure and mischief, had been a very lucrative match. Her dowry alone had been enough for Bungo to build Bag End twice over, with money to spare. While Bungo had never encouraged such thoughts in his own son, Hobson Gamgee had never let Hamfast forget his own humble roots. The Gamgees had been working for the Bagginses for generations past, and would for generations to come. Any hobbit worth his salt wouldn’t say otherwise.  
Bilbo sighed. Shaking his head, he slipped hands into his pockets as he surveyed his garden.  
‘Hamfast, I-’  
‘T’will last a while, I should imagine. Maybe even push winter back as much as one full moon, if’n you be lucky.’ Hamfast raised his voice, drowning out Bilbo’s words of thanks.  
Truth be told, Lobelia Sackville-Baggins had done him far more damage than he had first realized. Bag End was practically sparse. None of his silver had been recovered, nor Belladonna’s finest china. Not even his second and third best china had been returned. There wasn’t a single doily, tea cozy, end-rug nor serving platter to be found within the once-warm walls. As far as his fellow hobbits were concerned, they had been sold Bilbo’s possessions in good faith. The small matter that Lobelia Sackville-Baggins rightfully had no claim to those items, nor the money made from their sale, seemed to matter little. Hamfast suspected it was only partially Bilbo’s fault. While his adventuring had soured his reputation, not to mention his consorting with wizards and dwarves, Bilbo’s lack of respectability would have been overlooked. It all stemmed from that mother of his. Belladonna Took had been a stubborn, proud hobbit. A real beauty in her day. From money, too. When she had chosen Bungo, there had been many disgruntled mutterings, but no objections. The Bagginses were a fine family, if a little stiff, even by hobbit standards. But that Belladonna. She had put many nose out of joint, Hamfast reckoned. Always beaming, morning, noon and night. Always enough food to go around; should others fall on hard times, there she would be, that wicker basket of hers overfilling with rich meat pies and sharp fruit tarts. There were rumors that she had even set in to motion the start of schooling for male and female hobbits alike – at no charge! Now, while hobbits are, on the whole, a gentle, generous folk, they too have their pride. Pride that, when faced with that fine line between generosity and charity, had been wounded. Hamfast could remember the gleeful whisperings of his mother telling his father ‘that Took girl has lost another one!’   
He hadn’t understood at the time, for he was but a wee hobbitling himself, barely into his tweens. It was the first, the only time he heard his father strike his mother, as his sisters ushered him from the room. It wasn’t until years later, that he considered what his mothers words could have been meant. Not until he realized just how big, how empty his employers house was, all alone, with no brothers or sisters to keep him company.  
‘Do you think there still time for anything to grow before winter sets in?’ Bilbo asked, fingers twisting over the small scrap of cloth, safe and secure within his breast pocket. Bofur’s offhand gift had become somewhat of a prized possession of his, replacing his grandfather’s gold pocket watch in its place of pride within his waistcoat.  
That…well, that now belonged to a rather greasy tradesman in Bree. He hadn’t had the heart to sell it to one of his cousins. It wouldn’t do for them to know just how far he had fallen. Nor could he bring himself to sell it outside of the family, within Hobbiton that is. He couldn’t face any more gossip. And so it came to pass that, on a rather wet day, barely one moon since his return to Bag End, that he had taken his grandfather’s pocket watch, and the single candlestick of his grandmothers that Otho had snuck away from beneath his wife’s shrewd gaze, to see what he could get in the way of supplies, to tide him over the long winter that was sure to come.  
‘Not as much’n as we were hoping for, but it should be enough to last you.’  
Lórien bless him, Bilbo did not know what he would have done without Hamfast. Within his first week back, he had come. As Bilbo had sat in his comfy armchair, his fathers – a beaten up, worn out looking thing that none would pay to take away, he suspected – quite at his wits end on what he should do, Hamfast had come. Knocking on his door a little after elevenses by good hobbit timekeeping. Bilbo himself, still in his clothes from the prior day, having sat up all night in his single chair, wrapped in his cloak [for, if he closed his eyes and breathed in deep enough, he could swear that he could still smell the deep, metallic musk that was purely Thorin] with bags the size of teacups beneath his eyes. Bleary-eyed, he had been most overwhelmed as Hamfast gently maneuvered his way into his kitchen, a small basket of homemade bread, butter and gingersnaps that his Bell had made just that morning in one hand, the other gently guiding him to his rickety kitchen table.  
Gone was the long, impressive dining table that he had entertained with before his trip to Erebor. In its’ place, a single, weather-worn thing he had bought from a flea-market months before his trip, intending to chop it up for firewood.  
As he had stared blankly at the plate of gingersnaps being pushed into his shaking hand, Hamfasts voice had filled the silence, coaxing him out of his self-imposed isolation for the first time in months.  
Did he want broad beans, or asparagus where the rose bushes had been? Peas – garden and sugarsnap, spring onions or shallots in where the daffodils had been growing? Lettuce – both winter and lambs, would look nice along the hedgerow, Hamfast said, with spinach and garlic besides the gatepost. Perhaps a head or two of spring cabbage leading up to the door.  
‘My Bell said t’ tell that Mister Baggins that there is more’n enough to go around if’n he fancies coming over for a roast one night this week.’ Eyes lowered, focusing on the soil as he weeded the flowerbed holding the first shoots of snowpeas, he was careful not to look up at Bilbo. Back stiff, the younger hobbit no doubt had that look on his face again; that blasted mix of shame and stubbornness and pride, all rolled in to one. ‘You’re getting too thin around the face, though your stomach seems a little more healthy’n when you first came back. My youngest wants to hear more about that adventure of yours, see.’ He wheedled, coaxing Bilbo into accepting their invitation. His Bell could make a roast stretch to feed another mouth, of that he was sure. ‘You could watch him while Bell and I have a little alone time after dinner, if’n you see what I mean.’  
‘I couldn’t possibly impose.’ Bilbo, voice soft, barely louder than a whisper, broke his heart.  
‘It ain’t no imposition, Mister Bilbo. It ain’t never no imposition. An’ don’t you forget that.’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bad news? Quite a few short ones on the way again :(
> 
> Oh! Re: Lórien. If I am reading the LoTR wiki correctly, Lórien is the Valar of desires and dreams? It seemed appropriate that Bilbo pray to him, as he is so lost and hopeful. Please feel free to correct me :)


	6. Chapter Six – Family

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank-you so much to everyone who has left a comment or kudos for this fic. I appreciate it so much :)

My love,  
Oh Nienna, it’s Fili and Kili, isn’t it? Is that why you haven’t answered a single one of my letters? Please, tell me they are safe. I couldn’t bare for you to go through such a loss alone. I know it was only for a short time, but I had come to think of them as family, just as much as the Tooks and Brandybucks, moreso than the Sackville-Bagginses. Perhaps closer than them all…  
The Shire is beautiful this time of year. Everything is going into hibernation, even my beautiful garden. You wouldn’t recognize it now, nor the rest of Bag End! Hamfast has been so good to me since my return. He used to be my gardener, before our little adventure. We grew up not five minutes down the hill from each other. It is funny, isn’t it? How we don’t realize just how much we mean to people, and how much they mean to us, until it is too late, or our need great.  
I…must confess, I am in quite the state. But I shan’t bother you with such little details, not when other, more important matters are at hand.  
If, in your heart, you still cannot find it to grant me forgiveness for what I have done out of love, find mercy. You are an uncle, a brother, a son; you have had friends and lovers. Show mercy. Send word of their fate. I cannot go on like this. I cannot live with not knowing.  
I would have come, demanding answers, if not for fear of being turned away the moment I set foot in Erebor. I doubt Lobelia would leave anything for me to return to, should I set foot outside of the Shire again.  
I still haven’t been able to get back in the habit of having my seven meals a day. I do hope you are quite happy with yourself, Thorin! What respectable hobbit forgets to eat unless reminded? Why, it’s practically laughable.  
The Gamgees are being good to me, as would the Tooks, if I had it in me to go to them. They are my kin, but…did you fear being turned away when you traveled to the Blue Mountains, when first you lost your home? Did your stomach sink at the thought of being a burden? I cannot bring myself to darken their doorways, not with winter fast approaching.  
I will try and write often, but ravens are not the most reliable here during the darker months, and I cannot approach a Ranger this far from Bree. Terribly expensive, the lot of them. Few to none traveling this far out are trustworthy in any respect.  
If you could just send word…or have one of the others write me that they are safe.  
Please, Thorin.   
I need to know that my family is safe.  
I pray that I am wrong, that Fili and Kili are safe by your side.  
All of my love, Bilbo.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Nienna - Valar/ goddess of Mercy


	7. Chapter Seven – Family pt 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A super-short one I'm afraid. Work is killing me at the moment - half six start in the morning, after getting only around 3-4hours sleep. Starting to miss my shifts :(
> 
> Thank-you all so much for the comments and kudos so far *squeel of fangirl joy* 
> 
> I will be updating the tags at the series reaches certain critical points. Please, any comments or critiques are loved and appreciated <3
> 
> The next update will be a little short, but not THIS short *winces* Hey, at least this is my second update for the day? c:

‘I can’t believe you!’  
‘Now, love.’  
‘Don’t you ‘love’ me, Hamfast! Aint eight mouths enough t’ feed, without another t’ worry about?’  
Bilbo winced at the sound of cupboards being slammed and cutlery dropped with little care onto the kitchen table. Fist hovering, poised to knock on his longtime friend and gardeners door, he bit his lip.  
‘What would you have be do, Bell? See the poor lad starve? You know he ain’t been the same since he came back.’  
‘Exactly! No good comes from going off on adventures, Ham. And none’ll come to us neither, inviting him into our home. He’s still got them books, don’t he? Let him see what it feels like to pawn for a change.’  
‘Momma? Was that Mister Bilbo at the door?’


	8. Chapter Eight – Family pt 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That tiny chapter last night? Yea...this is the other half of it :( Sorry about that! [it just didn't flow without splitting it in two, and I HATE using some weird kind of spacer mid-page to show PoV change]
> 
> I will totally try and update again today if possible. I really need to get a few more buffer chapters written though :s
> 
> Thank-you so much for the kudos, the comments and bookmarking this <3 Wowie, over 4k in hits already! I really hope you guys are enjoying it :)
> 
> Taking in to account feedback, I will be trying to make chapters a little longer [or at least, avoiding the tiiiiiney length of chapters 1 and 7], along with adding the 'not a comedy' tag :) Thank-you for reading! <3

 

 

_What was I thinking?_

Bilbo hurried down the winding path, keeping his head down as he made his way back to Bag End.

_To take food out of the mouths of babes – have I really fallen this far?_

Dusk had fallen. Hands deep in his pockets, Bilbo shivered at the chill in the air. Winter was approaching faster than he had hoped.

_I wonder if anything will be ready to harvest before the chill truly sets in?_

Hand resting on his gatepost, his eyes flickered to his letterbox. He swallowed, eyes stinging, an ever-present lump in his throat making itself known again.

_Perhaps while I was out…_

‘Stupid. Stupid, stupid…stupid.’

Slamming the door shut behind him, he fought against a fresh wave of tears. Of course the letterbox was empty. Who would write to him? He wasn’t respectable, or wealthy anymore. He had no close relatives, so to speak. No real friends, save Hamfast, to whom he was rapidly becoming a burden it would seem. As for-

_Well…It’s like Grammy Took always said; why buy the cow, when you can get the milk for free?_

Bilbo laughed, choking as another sob wracked his body.

_He had what he wanted, and now he is done with me. I gave him everything._

‘What a fool I have been.’

Biting his lip, Bilbo sank to the floor, his back pressed tightly against the door.

‘Mister Bilbo? You in there?’

Head falling into his hands, Bilbo stifled his sob with a fist.

‘Mister Bilbo?’

Trembling, he ignored Hamfasts’ banging on his door.

_I won’t be a burden. Not again. Not to anyone._

 

 


	9. Chapter Nine – Burden

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Almost at 100 kudos! *tears up* Thank-you so much!

 

Thorin, Thorin; dear, sweet Thorin.

How could I have missed it? All of the signs were there. Oh Manwë… how could I be so stupid? How could I have-have done this to you?

I must apologize. Truly and deeply. It would seem I have…read too much in to things, once again, haven’t I? I should have known – should have realized. I mean, really; a simple hobbit, and a king? Absurd!

The road was long and lonely. None knew if they would live to see Erebor, let alone survive when all was said and done.

You were being a good ruler, a good leader, weren’t you? You didn’t want to lead them on – any of the others, I mean. Though, I suppose none of them would have misunderstood the way I have – did. Did, I mean. For I think I understand now.

It was just a brief thing of passion, wasn’t it? Oh, how you must think me foolish – all my declarations of love, my badgering letters, my pathetic, pleading words. I just…they had begun to call me Auntie. Kili and Fili – ever the pair of tricksters, aren’t they? I suppose they thought I knew it was but a mere game. Another one of those little cultural misunderstangings.

I know we had our differences. Those first few weeks in particular. What an awful first impression I must have given! At with my bumbling, and my complaining. I didn’t bring a single useful thing with me, did I? Running out late after you all; barely turning up at all. I couldn’t even ride a pony right.

I complained when it rained, when we didn’t stop for elevenses or second breakfast, not to mention afternoon tea and supper. I made no effort to hide the pleasure I took in spending time with elves in Rivendale; showing them far more courtesy than I had any in your party.

I knew nothing of swords or fighting, other than not to drop the pointy end on my foot. I almost got us all killed by trolls. I was prepared to abandon you all on that mountain pass…I never have been able to figure out just what about me caught your eye.

It certainly wasn’t my roguishly handsome good looks. Baby-faced and a little on the thin side, even by hobbit standards.  Or my hair. Short, curly, horribly light mess compared to a dwarf. No beard, either. Nori said I reminded him of a Dwarven maid, before her beard would grow in. I didn’t quite know what to make of it at the time, but I am sure it was not meant as a compliment.

I wasn’t brave. I wasn’t witty or romantic or flirty. I was just me. Scared, doing my best – trying to prove to the most stubborn, the most pig-headed, the most…handsome male I have ever encountered, that I was worthy to breath the same air as he.

And then you – you…you stopped being so angry all the time. You looked at me, for me. You saw something – at least, I thought you did, that spoke to some small part of you. You started seeking me out – not to berate me, or to call me a nuisance, or to try and send me home. I thought you were checking up on me. It made me so cross with you. Hadn’t I proved myself? I, foolish hobbit that I am, had to corner you while you away from the company. Lórien, I still have no idea why I thought speaking to you while you bathed in private was a good idea.

I was so mad! And you…you just stood there, silent and stone-faced as I huffed and puffed at you, arms flailing and cheeks crimson. I am surprised none of the others came to see what the silly little burglar was doing to their king. Just when I thought for sure I had gone too far, that you would surely strike me for my insolence…you kissed me.

I had thought you beautiful before. That night; it was as though you were a gift from Elentári herself. I could not bear to tear my eyes away. You have an air about you, Thorin. So regal and controlled all the time. That night, I first saw beneath the King.  

You held my cheek, and looked into my eye when I would have fled, afraid of what I could see hidden within your gaze.

That first night, as twilight bled in to dawn’s first light, I was certain you would forget me. That nothing would change; it would not be spoken of again. Yet…you kept finding excuses to get me by myself. Didn’t you?

That special smile – your eyes crinkle, your lips barely twitch; I realized that you reserved it purely for me.

I had thought…so many races speak of their One. Not that hobbits have a One. I…I thought that, maybe. I mean, we seemed…

And then I went and ruined it all. I stole what was yours. I didn’t trust you. You would have found a way, wouldn’t you, Thorin? To save us all, to make amends with Laketown . If I had just trusted you, would I still be by your side? Or was that always a fantasy, dreamt up by a silly little hobbit, thinking too much of his importance to a King?

I must apologies, Thorin Oakenshield, for my unwanted overtures. I will endeavor not to burden you with my affections again.

Please pass on my apologies to the rest of the company; if I inadvertently caused offense, if I acted too…familiar with any one, tell them they have my sincerest apologies.

Bilbo Baggins.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I would like to say a huge thank-you to everyone who has been commenting <3  
> It really has been motivating me - not only to write more, but also to update a little more frequently than I had planned!  
> *points to tags* Without wanting to give any spoilers, I will tell you guys this; I HATE cannon character deaths [in original series or in fanfiction], so it is HIGHLY UNLIKELY that I will kill any of Tolkin's Main Characters off. That having been said, everything [any anyone] else is fair game ;)
> 
> Manwë - King of the Valar  
> Lórien - Lord & Master of Dreams and Desires  
> Elentári - Queen of the Stars


	10. Chapter Ten – Family pt 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *blinks*  
> Wowie. Thank-you all so much for the kudos, comments, support and critiques.  
> Well, we are finally getting close to the real start of the plot/ action in Unforgivable [the first part in the series]. I just hope everyone sticks with it and continues to enjoy it ^_^

Chapter Ten – Family pt 4  
   
 _Handkerchief. Walking stick. Coinpurse – empty._  
Mentally going through his check-list, calm blue eyes scanned his study one last time. It had taken him quite some time, but he had finally decided on which of his collection he could bear to part with.  
 _Third edition of Household Healing Herbs. First edition of Riddles through the Ages. First edition of Great Took’s adventures…_  
Neatly stacking the chosen books, he begun tying them together with the last of the string.  
 _Yet another thing for me to buy..._  
A pale, mid-morning sun shone weakly through the small, round windows. Rather than bathing the room in a warm, cheery glow as it once would have, it only served to show just how stark and empty his hole now was.  
 _As good a day as any to make the trip to Tuckborough._  
Straightening his waistcoat – considerably more threadbare then he would have once kept it – Bilbo made his way towards his front door, hand clenching nervously around his walking stick.  
Even the road to Tuckborough had become more crowded in recent years; that meant big folks. Big folk meant men. Perhaps even a Ranger or two.  
 _Pull yourself together! What on earth would Mamma say, if she could see me now? Worrying over Men as though I am a wee  hobbitling._  
Running a shaky hand through his short, sandy blond curls, he picked up the fair sized bundle. He gazed sadly down at them. It really was such a shame, passing on such good books.  
Two first editions, too! Bilbo pouted to himself. Oh, how he loathed relinquishing even a single tome.  
 _I shall be thankful come winter. What use will a dusty old book do me, when there is snow on the ground and an empty belly to fill? It really is such a shame though..._  
Knock-Knock-Knock  
Eyes wide, the books tumbled from his limp fingers, clattering distantly against oak floorboards.  
'Oh, bother!' Crouching down, his fingers itched to undo the paper. What if he had damaged the binding? Or , heaven forbid, the spine!  
Knock. Knock. Knock.  
 _That knock sounds awfully familiar..._  
Bilbo's eyes widened, books tumbling from his hands for the second time in as many minutes.  
 _Could it be?_  
Stumbling over his own feet, Bilbo rushed towards the door.  
 _Oh Lórien, please. I know I have done him wrong, but please, by all that is good and pure, let it be-_  
Heart in his throat, he yanked the door open.  
‘Mister Bilbo.’  
Breath catching in his throat, he couldn’t help the wave of disappointment that crashed over him. Dimly, he was aware that Bell Gamgee was speaking; he couldn’t focus.  
Vision burring around the edges, he couldn’t help but peer behind her – just in case.  
‘Mister Bilbo?’ Tone sharp, Bell reached out to shake the pale hobbit.  
‘Y-yes?’ Bilbo stuttered, turning his attention away from the empty road. He had been avoiding Hamfast all week. Each time the stout hobbit knocked on his door or peered through his window, Bilbo made sure to hide out of sight. Shame burned his cheeks whenever he thought of the Gamgees.  
 _How could I have been so selfish?_  
Frowning, Bell huffed.

 ‘My Ham sent me over t’ apologize. Fer what y' overheard t' other night.’ Foot tapping impatiently, Bell spoke through gritted teeth.  
‘No!’ Bilbo cut her off, flustered. ‘I mean – no need. I am the one that should be apologizing, Mrs. Gamgee. I should never have imposed. Or eavesdropped. Hamfast is too generous for his own good, isn’t he?’  
Bell blinked, the wind knocked out of her sails.  
‘Yes. Yes he is.’ She stared at him shrewdly. ‘There’s summ’in different about you.’  
Bilbo stared back, at a loss of what to say. ‘Erm…’  
‘Y’ gonna invite me in, Mister Baggins, or leave me standin out 'ere in t' cold? I don’t know how they did things out there on your fancy, schmansy adventures, but here in Hobbiton we ‘ave manners.’ Bell made a show of leaning against the doorway, heaving a small wicker basket higher up in her arms.  
‘Oh! How, how rude of me. Please, do-’ Bilbo trailed off, as Bell pushed her way past him, making her way into his great, bare hobbit hole. ‘-come in.’  
Softly pushing the door shut, he trailed behind his guest, hands fluttering. He never had known quite how to act around Bell Gamgee - or any hobbits of the fairer sex, if he were being completely honest.  
‘I-I was just on my way out. I am terribly sorry, I haven’t got a thing in for elevensis. Ah…’ Racking his mind, Bilbo mentally went through the meagre contents of his cupboards. ‘Perhaps a spot of tea?’ Turning on his heel, Bilbo didn’t have to wait for an answer, as Bell swanned  past him, making a beeline for his kitchen.  
Hurrying after her, he sighed. At this rate, he would never make it back before nightfall.  
Reaching for the top cupboard, Bilbo pulled out the single, chipped teapot that he had managed to buy back from Lobelia. A pair of mismatched, equally chipped cups and saucers followed, as he set the sturdy, battered kettle atop hob to heat.  
‘How the mighty ‘av fallen.’  
Back stiffening, Bilbo kept his head lowered, refusing to be baited. He could hear Bells footsteps as she approached, having taken the opportunity to look through his rooms while he was over wise occupied.  
‘See what adventuring gets you, MISTER Baggins? I coulda told you no good’d come o’ it.’ Bell sat herself down gently into Bilbo’s one good kitchen chair, leaving the wobbly, two-tone stall for him to use.  
 _Oh, please, please break..._  
Bilbo silently chanted, convinced it would be worth the loss of his one (questionably) good dining chair, just to see the look on Bells face as she fell to the floor in a tangle of limbs.  
‘You never have liked me, have you?’ He asked softly, placing the better of the two china teacups in front of her.  
‘I can’t say I have, Mister Baggins.’ Bell held his gaze, eyes hard. ‘Too much of a Took for Hobbiton. We don’t need none’er your kind here. Good hobbits live here. Hard working, respectable. Then that mother of yours-’  
The sound of china slamming against wood made her stutter to a halt.  
‘No need to speak ill of the dead, Mrs. Gamgee.’ Bilbo met her gaze, holding it. He would allow many things, but no one spoke ill of Belladonna Took.  
Flustered, Bell looked down.  
‘Yes, well.’ She took another sip of her drink, eyes sliding away from his; unwilling to apologize.  
‘I understand.’ Bilbo started, looking down into the contents of his cut. ‘Truly. How old is your youngest now? Samwise, isn’t it?’  
‘E just turned five this summer.’ She said warily, finger running over the chipped rim of her saucer.  
Bilbo smiled, eyes soft. ‘Five already! I remember when you found out you were pregnant with  Hamson; Hamfast didn’t stop beaming for weeks. He started working a lot more hours here and on his allotment around then, didn’t he?’  
Bell nodded sharply. She hadn't been best pleased when he had started spending less and less time at home. She never had quite forgiven Bilbo. Sitting all high and mighty in one of the finest houses in all of the Shire; all that space, all that luxury, all to himself. It was indecent, that's what it was.  
'I did offer him a raise, you know. He wouldn’t accept. Thought it was charity. I didn’t mean it that way, Bell. I just thought…’ his eyes fell to his own mismatched cup and saucer; leaves painted around the handle of the cream cup, the saucer, a pretty, speckled duck-egg blue. Part of great Grammy Took's every day china. Hadn't they gone missing after his fathers’ wake?  
 _Well, that answers one question. And to think, all these years I have only been worrying about e silverware!_  
‘I thought it would help. I have always considered Hamfast a friend – my very first, actually.’ Bilbo laughed. ‘He was there for me when Mama and Father passed. He was one of the only ones to attend the wake. I just- I thought, if he had a little more money, he could spend more time at home with you and the babe. I never meant any offense.’  
Shaky hands settled her cup on the battered kitchen cable, eyes unfocused.  
‘’E never said anythin…’  
‘Some hobbits are just too proud for their own good, wouldn’t you agree, Mrs. Gamgee?’  
Bell let out a short, sharp laugh.  
‘Money don’t solve everything. Look where it got you.’  
Bilbo tipped his head to her, lips thin.  
 _You have no idea how close to the truth you are._  
‘My money did not do this. This’ he held a hand up, indicating the barren kitchen. Long gone were his full, overflowing pantries and larders. Forgotten were the garlands of drying herbs and winter veg. No trace of the warm, homely hole his Mama had spent her life building remained. ‘Comes from those upstanding Hobbits who would rob a dead man of his socks, if they thought it would benefit them.’  
‘Y’ can’t honestly say yer adventurin’ didn’t play a part.’ She scoffed. She watched, with the keen gaze only a mother can develop, as the hint of sadness that had been present in him since Belladonna’s death seemed to overwhelm his pale blue eyes.  
‘No. I suppose I cannot deny that.  
Silence fell.  
Bilbo, lost in thoughts of Thorin and company, forgetting to play the part of dutiful host. Bell, unwilling to apologize, or fain interest in wild tales of lands far from Hobbiton, where no sensible hobbit would ever dream of visiting, at a loss of what to say.  
Reaching down to her forgotten wicker basket, Bell pulled out a small bundle.  
‘’S not much, but Ham insisted y’ weren’t eatin’ proper.’ Bell slid a wax paper package of bread and cheese across to the younger hobbit. ‘Nothin’ fancy, like, but s’ good enough for us.’ Her tone held a challenge, her chin raised.  
‘Oh, I really couldn’t. I wouldn’t want to impose.’ Bilbo shook his head, reaching out to push the package back across his scarred oak table.  
He blinked. Bells hand held his own down, trapping it against the bundle.  
‘ ‘S rude to refuse a gift, Mister Baggins.’ Her voice held a dangerous edge.  
‘It’s far worse to take food out of the mouths of hobbitlings, Mrs. Gamgee.’ Bilbo returned.  
Slowly, she sat back in her chair, looking him up and down carefully for the first time in years. Her eyes narrowed.  
‘Ham said you aint been eatin.’  
She could see his cheekbones, for Aulë’s sake.  
Bilbo had the energy to look affronted. ‘Now, see here. Just because I have been off of my breakfast, and my second breakfast…and elevenses since I returned, doesn’t mean I am not eating.’  
Standing, Bilbo huffed. Bustling back to the safety of his cupboards, he looked for his emergency stash of biscuits. Surely Lobelia couldn't have taken all of the rich tea fingers.  
‘You av, av you?’ She eyed him. His clothes were practically hanging off of him, compared to the last time she had seen him. Why, that waistcoat had barely buttoned up the last time she had seen him in the market. Ham had hoped he would be asking her to take all his clothes out again; if nothing else, Bilbo did pay well for seamstress work. Rather, he had.  
Yet…  
No, it couldn’t be.  
‘Lost a little weight, ‘av we?’ She said, making no move to touch the cracked yellow plate of biscuits. She wouldn’t have recognized it as one of Belladonna Took’s second-best china set, if not for the bright daffodil pattern on the edging.  
‘Yes, well. There is not exactly time for seven meals a day on the road.’ Bilbo tried, sure that even a brief mention of his adventures would dissuade her line of thought.  
‘Funny, though….’ Bell sipped the last of her tea. ‘How tight them trousers av got around the waist, considerin’ how loose they are everywhere else.’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> @_@ I haven't written a single word today!  
> *faceplants on her laptop*  
> Must get more done, lest a day be missed T_T


	11. Chapter Eleven: Family pt 5  +++Update Fail! Please read quick note+++

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gah! I am SO sorry everyone! The WRONG version of last nights chapter got posted! I only realized when someone commented about Bilbo going to Bree (when I did tiny bit of research, that journey should take several days, hence that and a few other edits)
> 
> Please, PLEASE give chapter 10 another quick read; I did a fair amount of editing on the original version, as I felt it was a bit disjointed the first time. I'm not sure if it will be obviously, but it's the version intended for posting, so I would appreciate if people gave it a quick look :)
> 
> If chapter 10 doesn't show as saying Bilbo is going to Tuckborough, PLEASE let me know :(
> 
> (THIS chapter does mention Bree though :) )

  
   
 _‘Funny, though….’ Bell sipped the last of her tea. ‘How tight them trousers av' got around the waist, considerin’ how loose they are everywhere else.’_  
   
Bilbo stared at her blankly, mouth hanging open.  
   
'I-I really don't know what you are talking about!' Standing, Bilbo busied himself with collecting the tea things to wash up. 'How highly inappropriate - speaking about someone's weight like that!' He muttered furiously to himself.  
   
'Well, that makes more sense.' Bell drawled.  
   
Bilbo's back stiffened, hands clenching. 'Hmm?'  
   
'Why Mister Baggins of Bag End has remained single all these years.'   
Bilbo shuddered, the unexpected feeling of her breath tickling his cheek making him jump. Spinning around, he squeaked. Bell was far, far too close; a nasty smirk twisting on her lips.  
'Hobbitons most eligible bachelor likes taking it up the arse.'  
'Get out.' Bilbo's voice trembled.  
'I bet you just couldn't get enough, could you?'Pressing closer, she backed him against the sink. 'I bet you didn't even make it past Bree. Bend over for the first ranger who gave you a second look, did you? All those curls and cheekbones - I bet you were popular among the men.'  
A crack sounded, echoing. Harsh breathing broke the silence.  
Hands clutching her stinging cheek, Bell looked across at Bilbo, tears in her eyes - more from shock than anything.  
'Well, you're half right. I suppose I did bend over for the first one to show an once of interest in me.'  
Finally taking note of his clenched fists and shaking shoulders, Bell started backing away, fingers pressed tightly to her red cheek.  
'I hate to disappoint, but I made it all the way to Rivendale. And Erebor. I met elves, fought orcs and wargs, battled spiders bigger than a horse!' Bilbo's voice steadily rose in strength and volume. 'I risked my life for him, and you dare trivialise all that I have been through?'  
Bell shook her head wildly, eyes focused on him. She had never seen him like this; none in the Shire had.  
'Then...what're you doing ere?'  
She watched as the fire in his eyes ebbed, as though being extinguished. she could feel something clenching tightly in her chest.  
'Leave.'  
As he turned, a hand shot out, grabbing his wrist in a steely grip.  
'I ain't never seen you that passionate about nothin. My betting is neither 'as my Ham. Who. Was. He?'  
She felt him go limp under her hand.  
'Just someone I...someone I thought would be there, for always.' He gave her a watery smile. 'Rather silly, really. I was just some...hobbit, that got too attached to him. I thought too much of him, when I should have thought of him as just some dwarf.'  
Bells mouth fell open. Numb fingers dropped his wrist. Surely he couldn't have been that stupid. Could he?  
'Now, if you would be so kind, please leave.'  
'A dwarf? You... you...idiot! Didn't Belladona - didn't Bungo...hmph!'  
As the front door slammed shut behind her, Bilbo allowed himself to sink to the floor. Head in his hands, the cool slate flagstones felt pleasantly chilled against his flushed skin. Tears trailed down hot cheeks, as he let out gasping choking sobs.  
 _I wonder just how much more my reputation can suffer once this is out?_  
   
 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the short update :(  
> And thank-you everyone so much for the comments and kudos! 1 week ago today, this fic started being posted lol. All those comments and kudos have really kept me going :0


	12. Chapter twelve: when a hobbit loves another hobbit, or a dwarf, or an elf very much...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NOTES: Would you guys rather I kept up the updating once-a-day pace, or have a longer update once or twice a week?
> 
> I’d like to apologize for the delay in updates this weekend. I received some extremely bad news on Friday, and I’ve been able to focus on little else since.

_Well then, ol' boy, may as well pull yourself together._  
Forcing himself to his feet, Bilbo groaned. His back was killing him. It had been twinging for some weeks, now that he thought about it.  
 _I must just be adjusting still. That bedroll wasn't exactly much protection from rocks and the like._  
Glancing out of the window, he was surprised to see the sun already beginning its descent.  
'Blast!' he stretched, rubbing chilled hands together.   
_Just how long was I sitting down there?_  
'Damnable woman!' Ambling towards his study, Bilbo caught sight of the forgotten wax paper bundle.  
 _...It_ would _be a shame to let it go to waste..._  
Taking his prize with him, he gave the scattered pile of books a forlorn look.  
'Tomorrow. I will go tomorrow.'  
 _I will have to. I am almost out of...well, just about everything._  
Giving his first pantry passing glance, he winced. It broke his heart to see it so empty.  
 _Mama would have my backside across her knee in a flash, if she could see me now. Sulking here, alone, when there are things to be done, and others much worse off than I._  
'After all, I have Bag End. I have at least one good friend in Hamfast.' Opening the small wax parcel, he smiled. Stilton, apricot jam and honey bread; his favourite. 'I have my good health. What more could I-'eyes wide, his hands flew up to his mouth, food falling to the desk with a faint splat.  
Bending over the arm of his chair, Bilbo heaved. Clutching his stomach, the scent of blue cheese mixed with the sharp tang of bile wafted up, clinging to the back of his throat. Bleary-eyed, he glanced down at the mess he had made. 'Perfect. Just perfect.'  
Rising to find a cloth, he couldn't bring himself to even look at food.

_What a waste._  
Bang-bang-bang  
Bilbo jumped. Whoever could that...  
'Oh no. Don't tell me...' Cautiously, Bilbo approached the door, praying to the Valar that she had not returned.  
'Mister Bilbo? You in there?'  
Bilbo let out a sigh of relief.   
_It's only Hamfast._  
'Is everything all right in there?'  
Bilbo caught himself before he could call out a reply.   
_Perhaps if I just remain quiet..._  
'I know you're in there. My Bell sent me around t' give you this.'  
 _Oh sweet mercy - he's going to kill me. I can't believe I actually struck her! How could I do something so-so...barbaric!_  
'Now, are you going to let me in, Mister Baggins, or am I goin'ta use this here spare key?'  
Bilbo whimpered. He had forgotten the spare key he had given his friend and gardener months earlier, before Gandalf had first arrived.  
 _Well...fuck._  
Bilbo stifled a giggle at his own thoughts; if Belladonna were there, she would wash out his mouth with soap for even thinking of such a vulgar word.  
Oh GOD, what would she have done if she had known he struck a woman?  
 _To be fair, as it was Bell Goodchild-Gamgee, Mama may very well have struck her before I ever had the chance..._  
'’Ere you are.'   
Biting at his lip, Bilbo couldn't help but flinch as Hamfast closed the door behind him.  
'I can't stay long; I was on my way over t'see if the Proudfoots need any help around that new place o'theirs. Bell only just caught me, she did. Looked mighty flustered, she - what on earths gotten in t' you?' Hamfast took a step closer, brow furrowed.   
'W-wrong? What makes you say that.'   
' y' look as white as a sheet, if'n I do say so me'self. Y' feelin' ok?'  
'Ah-absolutely. Ah, you were saying, you brought something?' Bilbo asked, circling behind the nearest chair, careful to put some distance between them.  
'Ah. Yes. Bell said you'd be wantin' t' borrow this.' Hamfast laid a brown paper parcel on the chair, careful not to come too close. In all the years he had known him, he had never seen Bilbo looking quite so skittish. 'She also said t' tell you luncheon is at twelve sharp tomorrow.'  
'Luncheon?' Bilbo said weakly.  
'Aye. An' she said t' tell you she'll be comin' round herself if'n you so much as a minute late. I'd just come round if I were you; my Bell ain't the most patient hobbit.' Hamfast smiled ruefully. Tipping his hat, he was gone without another word. Not that Bilbo noticed; his gaze focused completely on the square, plain wrapped parcel.  
 _What on Middle-earth…_  
Curiosity getting the better of him, Bilbo ran his fingers over the plain brown wrapping.  
 _I really should clean up that mess before it damages the floor…_  
Nimble fingers were unwrapping the simple string binding before he had finished the thought.  
Eye wide, mouth open, Bilbo Baggins didn’t quite know what to make of it.

            ‘Contraception to Conception: The Guide to Alternative Hobbit Pregnancies'  
   
‘Oh dear, sweet Aulë.’  
   



	13. Chapter Thirteen: King Under the Mountain

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Double update as an apology [even though it's a short one still :( ]

 

 

  
   
   
To his highness, the King under the Mountain  
Thorin, I know I said I wouldn't bother you again but, well, I have some rather urgent news that pertains to you.  
Such things are best discussed in person.  
I - oh bother! I am far too nervous and concerned for all of this this formal nonsense. Far too excited, now that I have the chance to stop to think.  
I fear I have not been entirely truthful with you. Rather, I may have forgotten to mention a small detail or two…or five, about hobbits. In my defence, you never once thought to ask of our customs or history! Do you know how many allowances I made for you blasted dwarves? Did even one of you extend me the same courtesy? By Melkor, did you!  
I expect word by the end of winter, or I shall darn well come to Erebor myself - banishment be damned! - and knock some sense into you!  
Hmph!

Bilbo Baggins, of Bag End

  
Post Script: You better bloody remember me, you damn dwarf. And for Aule's sake, make sure Kili and Fili remember to wear scarves in this weather! The last thing you need are frost bitten heirs.  
Post-Post Script: Send some of that honey-bread Bombur promised to make when we were passing through Rivendale. Oh. And I still love you, you pig-headed cave-dweller.  



	14. Chapter Fourteen- Hobbitlings and Family

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so sorry for the formatting fuck-up! Hopefully this should show properly now. Darn word...

Chapter fourteen- Hobbitlings and Family  
  
  
'Mrs. Gamgee?'  
Wringing his hands, Bilbo knocked firmly on the door.  
 _I am a Took; I will not be cowed by some-some, ill-mannered hobbit!_  
He had been up half the night with worry. Well, a quarter with worry, a quarter with sickness, if he were being honest.  
 _How could I have been so careless? To think – never once did I think of the risks! Disease, infection, pre…well, my little predicament…_  
A good portion of the evening and night before had been spent pouring over the text Bell had sent. He had forgotten all about his little accident in the study until that very morning. The strong, sour smell had sent him running back to the latrine.  
His finger fell unconsciously to stroke over his belly.  
 _Is there really a little hobbitling in here? No, not a hobbitling…dwarfling? Oh my._  
He still couldn’t believe he had missed the swelling of his stomach. It was rather pronounced, now that he had looked at it in the small, broken mirror in the second best guestroom. He hadn’t been able to track down his mother’s favourite mirror. A beautiful, fanciful thing; a blend of silver birch and ebony.   
_Lobelia must have made a pretty penny from its’ sale._  
Of course he had known it was a possibility. Poor Bungo had tried giving him The Talk when he had reached his tweens. Belladonna hadn’t been able to stop her great, big guffaws of laughter when she walked in on her husband, beetroot red, stumbling over a truly awful metaphor comparing the gentleness of handing a female hobbit’s chest to the task of milking their old cow, Tulip, who would only stay still and relinquish her milk to the lightest of touches. She had taken great delight in shooing her husband away, so she could have a proper talk with her little autumn pudding.  
 _Not that Mamma took anything seriously_  
Unlike Bungo, who had blushed and stumbled his way through awkward metaphors that had left a much younger Bilbo blushing down to his hairy little toes, Belladonna had taken a much more…direct method.  
 _If I ever had to see another atomically correct drawing of an orc’s private parts, it shall be far, far too soon!_  
 _Though, I suppose I should just be glad that poor Ori didn’t stumble across that particular…_  
Bilbo paused, eyes stinging sharply. Of course Ori didn’t stumble across anything in his library. His offer for the young would-be scholar to visit had been early on in their journey. Nothing would come of it now.  
 _A-at least Mama never…_  
He bit his lip.   
Belladonna would have loved Fili and Kili. They shared the same charming sense of mischief.   
_To think; Smaug would have been but a small footnote compared to the terror wrought upon the Lonely Mountain in comparison to the two youngest sons of Durin and a wilful hobbit lass._  
 _Oh Mamma…_  
Unfortunately, so caught up in the physical mechanics of things, along with the emotions that ‘better darn well be present before you court someone, young man!’ she had skimmed over a few…somewhat vital, it would seem, details.  
Of course I knew males could bear hobbitlings, but the thought never crossed my mind. Not once did I consider something like this...  
A small smirk twisted his lips.  
 _She would have kicked Thorin’s ass._  
'Mamma! Mista Bag-in-ses is at th' doooor.'  
'What'ave I told you about shouting, Samwise Gamgee! Now, go an' 'elp your sister.'  
 _Blast. There goes my chance…_  
Bilbo plastered what he hoped was a pleasant expression on to his face (but he expected was much closer to a grimace, if Bell's reaction were anything to go by) as she pulled open the heavy pine door.  
'Y' goin't stand there all mornin, or y' goin't come in?' Bell asked, cleaning her hands of flour on her neat, grey-white apron.   
She turned, leaving Bilbo in the doorway, with his mouth hanging open, ready to politely decline her invitation, to apologise, to say something to get him out of such an uncomfortable predicament.  
 _I guess there's nothing for it._  
Bilbo made his way in to the Gamgees small home.  
It was cramped, but warm. Signs of the hobbit-holes nine residents could be seen everywhere; from an abandoned glove belonging to little Marigold Gamgee, Hamfasts sixth, to a small carved wooden hedgehog that he knew his old friend had spent weeks making for Samwise after he broke his toe.  
'Drink.'   
Bilbo's hands instinctively curled around the plain green cup, as Bella thrust it in his direction. The soothing scent of chamomile and mint wafted up, calming his stomach. He hadn't been able to keep a single thing down since the blue cheese incident, as he was beginning to refer to the day before.  
Staring down into his cup, he could hear Bell ushering the last of her children out of the back door.  
 _Great. Privacy...the last thing that Bell and I should have._  
'Ah, Mrs. Gamgee, about the other day-'  
‘Sit.’  
Firm hands pressed against his shoulder with the no-nonsense air of a woman used to dealing with an unruly brood. Jerking beneath her fingers, they both stilled.   
‘I-I’m terribly-’ Eyes wide, he hunched over his teacup; he found himself quite unable to take a single step forward. He hadn’t been touched – not truly, in the months since his banishment. With the exception of those rangers…  
Flinching again, Bilbo almost didn’t hear what Bell said.  
‘Bes’ skip the niceties, then.’ With a heavy sigh, she plopped herself down on the best armchair – a worn, warm brown thing that had once been in Bag End. One of the few gifts she hadn’t refused when he first begun going through his fathers’ things. Gesturing impatiently to the couch opposite, her fingers smoothed out the flour-speckled folds of her skirts. ‘I take it my Ham gave’n you the book?’  
Bilbo nodded, eyes focused on the wisp of steam curling up and out from his cup.   
Silence stretched between them, each waiting for the other to speak.  
‘Y’ read it?’ She pushed, foot tapping against the simple earthen floor. ‘What’m I sayin? O’course you have.’   
Bilbo bristled. ‘Just because I like to read-’  
‘Think yer better then every’n else ‘round here, y’ do, with yer books and fancy-’  
The sound of the front door slamming shut cut them both off as Hamfast pointedly cleared his throat.  
‘Oh sush.’ Bell’s eyes softened as her husband eyed them, hands nervously fingering the worn pockets of his short trousers. ‘Out wit’ you.’  
 _Please don’t leave, please, please, please Hamfast._   
‘That dwarf o’ yours. ‘E know?’  
His lips thinned. ‘I don’t see how that’s any of your business.’  
‘The Da has th’ right t’ know.’ Bell took a sip of her own tea. ‘If’n you’re plannin’ on keepin’ it, tha’ is.’  
‘Of course I’m keeping it!’ Bilbo’s hands curled around his stomach, furious. ‘How dare you? How dare you! Just-‘  
‘Y’ won’t be respectable. Ne’er again.’ She held his gaze.  
‘You think that matters?’ He hissed, standing. ‘You think I give two figs what anyone thinks? This is my faunt we’re talking about.’  
‘It won’t ever fit in. ‘T’ll be a freak. Won’t not ever be a real hobbit, bein’ ‘alf dwarf.’  
Clenching his hands, Bilbo could feel himself trembling; the sour, sharp taste of bile rising in his throat.   
‘Family is family. No real Baggins would ever let family be hurt, would ever dream of discarding their child. And if you have something to say about it, well, just bloody well come out with it!’  
‘Come on, Mister Baggins. Times a’wastin’


	15. Chapter 15: Family pt 6

‘Is that mad Baggins with Bell?’

‘No, it can’t be! Bell wouldn’t be caught dead with his kind.’

‘I’m telling you, it is! Don’t you recognise that waistcoat?’

‘Bless my soul. It is, isn’t it?’

Head down, Bilbo followed behind Bell. He could feel the tips of his ears burning, the not-so-subtle whisperings of his fellow hobbits following in their wake. Few had seen him since his return. Even fewer had seen him and Bell in the same space, without heated words being exchanged, in all the years since she and Hamfast had wed. Her dislike of him was well known. Not that she was keen on any gentlehobbit; she just had a particular brand of scorn reserved just for him. At least Lobellia Sackville-Baggins hid her distaste behind a strained smile (more of a grimace, if you asked Bilbo) and sugared words. What do you expect, they would say, of a simple gardeners wife?

Tugging his waistcoat down, his hands wandered to his small, barely-there unless you knew to look, bump. Could there really be a little dwobbit in there? A smile crept across his lips. He just couldn’t help but love the term little Samwise had come up with; it was rather apt.

_As long as the little one has ten fingers and toes, and a strong heart, why should it matter if it grows to have my feet or Thorin’s beard?_ He paused, eyes widening. _Oh Aulie, what if it does look just like him? Or-or what if it gets his fathers height? Oh drat and damnation – what if it has his temperament?_

Shaking his head, Bilbo gathered his wits about him. _What would my mother say if she could hear me now? Why, she would be ashamed. So would Da. Did he love me any less for my Tookish curiosity? All those hours spent wandering the woods looking for elves. Mam certainly loved me despite my Baggins sense of propriety._

As Bilbo chuckled to himself they passed a rather rotund hobbit, who walked straight into the side of the nearest market stall.

_Why, she kept a straight face the entire way to the tailors stall just outside of Buckland when I wouldn’t stop wringing my hands and sniffing something dreadful when I lost my handkerchief on our camping trip just after my fifteenth summer._

Keeping an eye on Bells back, he allowed his gaze to stray – just for a second. A dozen or more hobbits quickly found something to avert their gaze towards, while two dozen more stared back at him without a hint of shame. Bilbo hurried to catch up to Bell, head once more lowered in shame.

_Hopefully it shall not get his nose, though. Not quite his most handsome of features, even I must admit. There again, he did say his sister broke it when they were mere dwarflings…perhaps it started off in a more fetching shape and size?_

The tinkling crash of glass breaking brought Bilbo back to his senses. Turning his head, he saw a rather irate stall holder shouting at a dazed Proudfoot, many of his wares laying broken, surrounding the pair.

‘Oh my. Whatever happened there?’ He murmured, not looking where he was going.

‘Watch it!’

Bell’s voice cut through his wonderings. Eyebrows lowered, a fierce look covered the Gamgee matriarch’s face, as she stood between Bilbo and a rather flustered looking pair of tweens.

‘Now, Bell – there’s no need for that. They were just having a bit of fun.’

Wide eyes looked up at the surrounding adults, hands firmly behind their backs.

Bell turned to snarl at the hobbit running the bakery stall.

‘Fun? Fun! There fun almost had ‘im over.’ She gestured back towards Bilbo, hands making their way to her hips in a gesture that even her youngest had learnt to fear. ‘What if he slipped and fell? Or they bumped in and toppled him right over. Darn right careless brats.’

‘So?’ The hobbit – a Goodchild, Bilbo thought, though he couldn’t for the life of him remember her name – snorted, flapping a hand at the tweens to usher them away. ‘It wouldn’t a done him any harm. What with how boney he is, it’d hurt them more than it would hurt him.’

Bilbos cheeks burnt with shame as the snickering started. Only a poor hobbit, or one on his deathbed would be so thin. A nice, well-rounded figure was the only way to attract a nice lad or lass; everyone knew that.

‘Who’re you taking about these lads in such a way? If anything, it’s him who should apologize to them for not looking where he was going.’ Murmurs of agreement rippled throughout the crowed.

Bilbo bit at his lip.

_So this is how it will be. Truly? Not a one on my side? What did I expect – a warm welcome home? Open arms? Foolish, foolish Took. Baggins side be damned; what good did it do me, letting me rush off on an adventure like that? Blast it all._

‘Bite your tongue Evelyn Goodchilde!’ Bell snapped. ‘All of you – shame! It’s one thing pointing out what them that knows better have done wrong, but picking on one who’s expecting. Didn’t your Mams teach you better?’

‘Expecting?’

‘Whose expecting?’

‘She can’t mean-‘

‘I can’t see! Who’s she talking about?’

‘You mean to tell us that mad Baggins is with-with…’ A Bulger spluttered, trying to find the right words ‘…in the family way, so to speak?’

Bilbo glanced up as the silence stretched on for a beat, then two, three. Bell stood in front of him, back straight, glaring down any who dare try and peek around her sturdy frame.

‘I would say that’s no-one’s business than MISTER Baggins, wouldn’t you?’

Reaching out with a shaking hand, Bilbo gently touched her elbow. Spinning around, she turned her fierce glare on him. Taking in his trembling form, her gaze softened. ‘Unless Mister Baggins wants to share, that is?’

He cleared his throat, daring to glance up. He quickly lowered his head once more. Hand dropping from where it rested on Bell’s elbow, his fingertips brushed against the edge of his threadbare waistcoat. Beneath the loose fabric, one could just about make out the faint outline of a bump.

_How in the name of all that is green in the Shire can I hope to protect you, to be good enough for you, to be there for you, if I can’t even look our neighbors in the eye? How can I call myself your Da if I can’t even do this for you?_

‘Go on, now. Leave him be.’ Bell started, shooing the crowd away with a scowl. ‘There aint nothin ta see here.’

‘E-excuse…’ Bilbo coughed, clearing his throat. ‘Excuse me!’ Straightening himself, he raised his eyes. Bell met his gaze; although her mouth didn’t so much as twitch, her cornflower blue eyes shined with approval. ‘There has been a lot of gossip flying about since my return. It ends here. You-you hear me?’ Folding his hands before him, he placed them comfortingly against his bump. ‘Many of you think me mad; For leaving. For coming back with such wild stories.’

Taking a deep breath, he could feel the words flowing as he released years of tension and frustration in one go.

‘Many more of you have never liked me. Few approved of my parents match. Fewer liked the strange little faunt they raised. Too Tookish and wild to be a real Baggins. Too reserved and mild-mannered to be a real Took. I have this to say to the lot of you.’

He paused. The crowed leaned forward in anticipation.

‘Stuff the lot of you. I couldn’t give two figs what any of you think of me. Or of those who have now passed – bless their souls. But…this isn’t just about the past now. It isn’t just about me. I could put up with all the whisperings and gossip, live happily – alone - as a bachelor for the rest of my days. But soon I shall have more than just myself to worry about.’

Rubbing at his belly with a steady hand, a small, sorrowful smile crossed his lips.

‘I fell in love, on my adventures. To a good, strong, honorable…being. He didn’t care that I was born to a good family.’ Whisperings begun, a low murmuring sounding throughout the gathered hobbits. ‘He never once gave me flowers, nor wrote me poetry. He didn’t even ask me to elevenses or afternoon tea.’

‘Not once?’ An outraged cry came from the back.

Bilbo laughed. He could feel the tears gathering at the corners of his eyes. ‘Not so much as an invite to stroll before teatime.’

‘Oh no.’

‘He doesn’t sound like a good’un.’

‘Not even for mad Baggins, he don’t.’

‘To think – someone courting one of our own so poorly! For shame.’

‘But that didn’t matter.’ Bilbo had to raise his voice to be heard. ‘He had the most beautiful eyes. He had this…this smile, that he saved just for his nephews – they were barely past their majority if there were but a day, I swear. He thought me an idiot, too. In that respect, you all would have gotten on with him very, very well.’

‘Where is he, then?’ Bell asked. ‘Where is this perfect gent of yours?’

‘I…’ Bilbo faltered. ‘I learnt a lot on my travels. Elves truly are as beautiful as the stories say. None outside of the Shire appreciate a solid, sensible seven meals a day. Never leave home without a handkerchief.’

Nods of agreement went around. While they couldn’t comment on elves, it was common knowledge that only those in the Shire knew how to plan a meal. and who in their right mind would go out as far as the market without a crisp, clean handkerchief?

‘And…and that love isn’t always enough.’

His breath hitched. Not a single hobbit spoke.

‘I am with child. I plan to raise this child here, in Hobbiton. In the house that my father build for my mother. That…that was built with the hopes of many a faunt would run throughout its hallways and pantries. If any one of you has a problem with this – with me. Then…then you can bloody well keep it to yourselves.’

Pulling on his braces, Bilbo slowly looked through the crowd, blue eyes meeting, green, grey, hazel, brown.

‘Good day to you all.’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Never abandoned, just put on hold as real life is turned upside down.  
> Thank you for all of the support and kind words.  
> More chapters to come in the new year.

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry for the shorter update :( Kinda panicked about chapter 10 problems...


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